SIR ROBERT ANDERSON
Secret Service
Theologian
THE SILENCE OF GOD
CHAPTER THREE
IN the old time men worshipped false gods, as they do still
in heathendom today. Atheism is the recoil from Christianity rejected. But the
unbelief of earnest men who are willing to believe, but cannot, is not to be
confounded with the blind and bitter atheism of apostates.
Nor will it
avail to plead that the miracles by which Christianity was accredited at first
still live as evidence of its truth. That will not satisfy the question here at
issue, which is not the truth of Christianity but the fact of a silent Heaven.
That in presence of the measureless ocean of human suffering in the great world
around us, and in spite of the articulate cry so constantly wrung from the
hearts of His faithful people, God should preserve a silence which is absolute
and crushing - this is a mystery which Christianity seems only to render more
inscrutable.
Here, however, we are assuming that miracles are possible, and
thus we shall incur the contempt of all persons of superior enlightenment. But
we can brook their sneers. Nor will they betray us into the folly of turning
aside to enter upon the great miracle controversy, save in so far as the
subject in hand requires it. Open infidelity has made no advance upon the
arguments of Hume. Indeed the phenomenal triumphs of modern science have only
served to weaken the infidel's position, for they have discredited the theory
that new discoveries in nature might yet account for the miracles of Scripture.
The only thing distinctive about the infidelity of our own times is that it has
assumed the dress and language of religion. Among its teachers are "Doctors of
Divinity" and Professors in Christian universities and colleges. And as the
disciples and admirers of these men claim for them superior intelligence and
special vigour of mental perception, an examination of these pretensions may
not be inopportune. But vivisection is to be deprecated, and mere abstract
statements carry little weight. How, then, are we to proceed? An Oxford
Professor of the past generation will do as the corpus vile for the
inquiry. Let us turn to the treatise upon "The Evidences of Christianity" in
the notorious "Essays and Reviews." Its thesis may be stated in a single
sentence -That the reign of law is absolute and universal. From this it follows
of course (i) that a miracle is an impossibility, and (2) that Holy Scripture
is altogether unreliable. Inspiration, therefore, is out of the question, save
as all goodness and genius are inspired.
It may seem feeble to turn back
now to the "Essays and Reviews," but the last forty years have made no change
in the German Rationalism which that epoch-making book first brought to the
notice of the average Englishman. These views are being taught today in many of
our schools of theology. The future occupants of so-called Christian pulpits
are being taught that the miraculous in Scripture must be rejected, and that
the Bible must be read like any other book.
Now what concerns us here is
not whether this teaching is true: let us assume its truth. Nor yet whether the
teachers be honest: we assume their integrity. But what can be said for their
intelligence? Any dullard can trade upon the labours of others. The most
commonplace of men can understand and adopt the tenets of the rationalists.
Where mental power will declare itself is in the capacity to review
preconceived ideas in the light of the new tenets. Let us apply this test to
the Christian rationalists. The incarnation, the resurrection, the ascension of
Christ - these are incomparably the greatest of all miracles. If we accept them
the credibility of other miracles resolves itself entirely into a question of
evidence. If we reject them the whole Christian system falls to pieces like a
house of cards. To change the figure, when Christianity is exposed to the clear
light and air of "modern thought," what seemed to be a living body crumbles
into dust. Yet these men profess unfaltering faith in Christianity. But while
their faith does credit to their hearts, it proves the weakness of their heads.
Those who believe in the Divinity of Christ while rejecting inspiration and
miracles, may pose as persons of superior enlightenment - in fact, they are
credulous creatures who would believe anything. Such faith as theirs is the
merest superstition. Appeal might here be made to unnumbered witnesses among
the scholars and thinkers of our time, who in face of this dilemma have found
themselves compelled to choose "between a deeper faith and a bolder unbelief."
If Christ was indeed Divine, no person of ordinary intelligence will
question that He had power to open the eyes of the blind, the ears of the deaf,
the lips of the dumb. If He had power to forgive sins, it is a small matter to
believe that He had power to heal diseases. If He could give Eternal Life there
is nothing to wonder at in the record that He could restore natural life. And
if He is now upon the throne of God, and all power in heaven and earth is His,
every man of common sense will brush aside all sophistries and quibbles about
causation and natural laws, and will recognise that our Divine Lord could do
for men to-day all He did for them in the days of His ministry on earth. -
But how is it that He does not? I know that if in the days of His humiliation
this poor crippled child had been brought into His presence He would have
healed it. And I am assured that His power is greater now than when He
sojourned upon earth, and that He is still as near to us as He then was. But
when I bring this to a practical test, it fails. Whatever the reason, it does
not seem true. This poor afflicted child must remain a cripple. I dare not say
He cannot heal my child, but it is clear He will not. And why will He not? How
is this mystery to be explained? The plain fact is that with all who believe
the Bible the great difficulty respecting miracles is not their occurrence but
their absence.
In his "Foundations of Belief," Mr. Balfour reproduces the
suggestion that if the special circumstances in which a miracle was wrought
were again to recur, the miracle would recur also. But even if the truth of
this could be ascertained, it would have no bearing on the present problem.
Miracles, Mr. Balfour avers, are "wonders due to the special action of Divine
power." As then we have to do neither with a mere machine nor with a monster,
but with a personal God who is infinite in wisdom and power and love, how is it
that in a world which, pace the philosopher, cries aloud for that "special
action," we look for it in vain?
In his "Studies Subsidiary to the Works of
Bishop Butler," Mr. Gladstone speaks in the same sense, but still more
definitely. In his discussion of Hume's dictum, that miracles are impossible
because they imply the violation of natural laws, he says: "Now, unless we know
all the laws of nature, Hume's contention is of no avail; for the alleged
miracle may come under some law not yet known to us." But surely this admission
is fatal. The evidential value of miracles, against which Hume is arguing,
depends on the assumption that they are due, as Mr. Balfour says, to "the
special action of Divine power," and that but for such action they would not
have occurred. That is to say, it is essential that the act or event
represented as miraculous should be supernatural. If, therefore, the "alleged"
miracle can be brought within the sphere of the natural, it is thereby shown
not be a real miracle. In other words, it is not a miracle at all.
If a
miracle were indeed a violation of the laws of nature, not a few of us who
believe in miracles would renounce our faith. For then the word "impossible"
would be transferred to the sphere in which it is rightly predicated of acts
attributable to the Almighty. "It is," we declare, "impossible for God to lie":
it is equally impossible for Him to violate His own laws; He "cannot deny
Himself" But this vaunted dictum owes its seeming force solely to confounding
what is above nature with what is against nature. Beyond this it is nothing but
a cloak for ignorance.
Here is a stone upon the road. In obedience to
unchanging law it lies there inert and tends to sink into the ground. Were it
to rise from the earth and fly upward toward the sky, it would, you say, be
indeed a miracle. But this you know is absolutely impossible. Impossible! A
rude boy who comes along snatches it from us and flings it into the air. This
mischievous urchin has thus achieved what you declared to be impossible! "But,"
you exclaim, "this is mere trifling, we saw the boy throw it up!" Is it by our
senses, then, that the limits of possibility are to be fixed? This is
materialism with a vengeance! Suppose the boy himself should fall over a
precipice, and you grasped him and drew him up again to safety, would this be a
violation of the law of gravitation? Why, then, should it be such if his rescue
were achieved by some unseen hand? A miracle it would be, no doubt, but not "a
violation of the laws of nature." As Dean Mansel expresses it, a miracle is
merely "the introduction of a new agent, possessing new powers, and therefore
not included under the rules generalised from a previous experience."
But
some thoughtless person may still object that matter can be put in motion only
by matter, and that to talk of a stone being raised by an unseen hand is
therefore absurd. Indeed! Will the objector tell us how it is he puts his own
body in motion? The power of something that is not matter over matter is one of
the commonest facts of life. The Apostle Peter walked upon the sea. "Nonsense,"
the infidel exclaims, with a toss of his head, "that would be a violation of
natural laws!" And yet the phenomenon may have been as simple as that produced
when he himself shakes his head! It is possible, moreover, that the laws may
yet be explained under which the miracles were performed. Nor would they cease
to be miracles if those laws were known; for the test of a miracle is not that
it should be inexplicable, but that it should be beyond human power to
accomplish it. Whether or not the power in exercise be Divine is matter of
evidence or inference; but once the presence of Divine power is ascertained, a
miracle, regarded as a fact, is accounted for.
(Footnote - This possibly may be what Mr. Gladstone means in the statement
criticised at p. 25 ante. But if so, I am at a loss to understand either his
language or his argument. He seems to suggest that the "alleged" miracles may
yet be explained to us, just as the predicted eclipse of the moon which
terrified the South Sea Islanders might afterwards have been explained to the
savages. My own meaning an illustration may make plain. That fire should come
down from the sky and kindle a pile of wood is a commonplace phenomenon. It
might occur during any thunderstorm. But if I heap wood together upon a certain
spot, and at my word lightning falls upon it and consumes it, this is a
miracle; and the element of the miraculous is in the fact that I have set in
motion some power that is above nature and competent to control
it.)
If a surgeon restores sight to a blind man, or a physician
rescues a fever patient from death, the fact excites no other emotion than our
gratitude. But when we are told that such cures have been achieved by Divine
power without the use of medicine or the knife, we are called upon to refuse
even to examine the evidence. The plain fact is that men do not believe in
"Divine power," or the "unseen hand." Disguise it as we will this is the real
point of the controversy. In the case of every human being, "special action" is
a duty if thereby he can relieve suffering or avert disaster; but in the case
of the Divine Being it is not to be expected or indeed tolerated! It is
accepted as an axiom that Almighty God must be a cipher in His own world!
The doctrinaire infidel rejects Christianity on the ground that the only
evidence of its truth is the miracles by which it was accredited at the first,
and that miracles are impossible - propositions, both of which are untenable.
The ordinary infidel, on the other hand, bringing practical intelligence and
common sense to bear upon the question, rejects Christianity because, he
argues, if the Christian's God were not a myth He would not remain passive in
presence of all the suffering and wrong which prevail in the world. That is to
say, discarding the contention of the doctrinaire philosopher that miracles are
impossible, he maintains that if there really existed a Supreme Being of
infinite goodness and power, miracles would abound. And the vast majority of
infidels belong to this second category. But though the philosophers are few,
and their sophistries have failed to take hold of the minds of common men, they
have well-nigh monopolised the attention of Christian apologists. Common men,
moreover, unlike the philosophers, are apt to be both fair and earnest, and
ready to consider any reasonable explanation of their difficulties. But the
answer offered them is for the most part either futile or inadequate. Mr.
Gladstone, for instance, falls back upon the plea that "if the experience of
miracles were universal, they would cease to be miracles." But what possible
ground is there for this? They would cease to excite wonder, no doubt; but that
is no test of the miraculous. In the beginning of our Lord's ministry, and
before the antipathy of the religious leaders of the Jews took shape in plots
for His destruction, His miracles of healing were so numerous and so free to
all, that they must have come to be regarded as matters of course. He "went
about," we read, "in all Galilee, healing all manner of disease and all manner
of sickness among the people. And the report of Him went forth into all Syria,
and they brought unto Him ALL that were sick, holden with divers diseases and
torments, possessed with devils, and epileptic, and palsied; and He healed
them."' In presence of such an unlimited display of miraculous power all sense
of wonder must have soon died out. But yet every fresh cure was a fresh
miracle, arid would have been recognised as such.
And so would it be in our
own day, if, for example, whenever a wicked man committed an outrage upon his
neighbour, Divine power inter-vened to strike down the offender and protect his
victim. The event would cease to excite the least surprise; but all would none
the less recognise the hand of God, and own His justice and goodness. And there
would be no infidels left- except, of course, the philosophers!
The
difficulty therefore remains unsolved. The true explanation of it will be
considered in the sequel; but at this stage the discussion of it is a mere
digression. So far as the present argument is concerned the matter may be
summed up in borrowed words: "The Scripture miracles stand on a solid basis
which no reasoning can overthrow. Their pcssibility cannot be denied without
denying the very nature of God as an all-powerful Being; their probabiity
cannot be questioned without questioning His moral perfections; and their
certainty as matters of fact can only be invalidated by destroying the very
foundations of all human testimony."! (Bishop Van Mildert's "Boyle
Lectures," sermon xxi.) Of the truth of these last words Hume's celebrated
treatise supplies most striking proof. He takes exception to the evidence for
the Christian miracles; but when he goes on to speak of certain miracles
alleged to have occurred in France upon the tomb of Abbé Paris, the
famous Jansenist, he admits that the evidence in support ot them was clear,
complete, and without a flaw. But yet he rejects them, and that solely because
of "the absolute impossibility, or miraculous nature of the events"! It behoves
us to regard such evidence with suspicion; but to accept the evidence and yet
to reject the facts thus established, is indeed "to destroy the very
foundations of all human testimony."
T HAT Paley and those who follow him have mistaken and
misstated the evidential value of the miracles of Christ may seem to some a
startling proposition; but it is by no means a novel one. To this error,
moreover, it is that the argument against miracles in John Stuart Mill's
"Essays on Religion" owes its seeming cogency.
The unbelief of the
Christianised sceptic compares unfavourably with the agnosticism of the honest
infidel. The one in rejecting miracles destroys the authenticity of the
Gospels, and thus recklessly undermines the foundations of Christianity. The
object of the other is a defence of human reason against supposed encroachments
upon its authority. The one trades in sophistries which have been again and
again refuted and exposed. The other propounds arguments which have never yet
been adequately answered. The pseudo-Christian practically joins hands with the
atheist; for no amount of special pleading will avail to silence Paley's
challenge, "Once believe there is a God, and miracles are not incredible." The
avowed agnostic seizes upon Paley's gratuitous assertion that a revelation can
only be made by miracles, and he sets himself to prove that miracles are wholly
invalid for such a purpose.
Among English men of letters Mill's position is
almost unique. From the account of his childhood in that saddest of books, his
"Autobiography," it would appear that he approached the study of Christianity
from the standpoint of a cultured pagan. He was wholly unconscious, therefore,
that his argument against the theologian's position was entirely in accord with
the teaching of Scripture. "A revelation cannot be proved Divine unless by
external evidence": such is his mode of restating Paley's thesis. And the
problem this involves may be explained by the following illustration.
A
stranger appears, say in London, the metropolis of the world, claiming to be
the bearer of a Divine revelation to mankind, and in order to accredit his
message he proceeds to display miraculous power. Let us assume for the moment
that after the strictest inquiry the reality of the miracles is established,
and that all are agreed as to their genuineness. Here, then, we are face to
face with the question in the most practical way. If the "Christian argument"
be sound we are bound to accept whatever gospel this prophet proclaims. And no
one who knows anything of human nature will doubt that it would be generally
received. The Christian, however, would be kept back by the words of the
inspired apostle: "But though we or an angel from heaven should preach unto you
any gospel other than that which we preached unto you, let him be anathema."'
In a word, the Christian would at once give up his "Paley" and fall back upon
the position of the sceptic in the "Essays on Religion"! He would insist,
moreover, on bringing the new miracle-accredited gospel to the test of Holy
Writ, and finding it inconsistent with the gospel he had already received, he
would reject it. That is to say, he would test the message, not by the
miracles, but by a preceding revelation known to be Divine.
That Christ
came to found a new religion, and that Christianity was received in the world
on the authority of miracles -these are theses which command almost universal
acceptance in Christendom. It may seem startling to maintain that both are
alike erroneous, and that the Christian position has been seriously prejudiced
by the error. And yet this is the conclusion which the preceding argument
suggests, and to which full and careful inquiry will lead us. Is it not a fact
that those in whose midst the miracles of Christ were wrought were the very
people who crucified Him as a profane impostor? Is it not a fact that when
challenged to work miracles in support of His Messianic claims He peremptorily
refused?'
"However," says Bishop Butler, in summing up his argument on this
subject, "the fact is allowed that Christianity was professed to be received
into the world upon the belief of miracles," and "that is what the first
converts would have alleged as their reason for embracing it." Language cannot
be plainer. The "first converts," having witnessed the miracles, reasoned out
the matter, and concluded that he who wrought them must be sent of God; and
thus became converts. But where is the authority for such a statement? As a
matter of fact not one of the disciples is reported to have attributed his
faith to that ground.' The narrative of the first Passover of the ministry,
which may seem at first sight to refute this, is in fact the clearest proof of
it. Here are the words:
"Many believed on His name, beholding His signs
which He did. But Jesus did not trust Himself unto them, for that He knew all
men." That is to say, He refused to recognise any such discipleship.
Then
follows the story of Nicodemus, who was one of the number of these miracle-made
converts. He had reasoned himself into discipleship, precisely as Butler
supposes; but, as Dean Alford expresses it, he had to be taught that "it is not
learning that is needed for the kingdom, but life, and life must begin by
birth." Such is throughout the testimony of St. John. Entirely in harmony with
it is the testimony of St. Peter, who shared with him the special privilege of
witnessing that greatest of the miracles, the Transfiguration on the Holy
Mount. "Being born again (he writes), not of corruptible seed, but of
incorruptible, by the Word of God."
(Footnote - i Pet. i. 23. Still more
definite are the Lord's words addressed to Peter in response to the confession
of His Messiabship, "Blessed art thou, Simon Bar.Jonah; for flesh and blood
hath not revealed it unto thee, but My Father which ii in heaven" (Matt.
xvi.)
Still more striking and significant is the case of St. Paul. As
great a reasoner as Butler, and moreover a man of unswerving devotion to what
he deemed to be the truth, the completed testimony of the ministry and miracles
of Christ left him a bitter opponent and persecutor of Christianity. "I
obtained mercy" is his own explanation of the change which took place in him.
And again, "It pleased God, who . . . called me by His grace, to reveal His Son
in me." Some may call such language mystical. To others, who are themselves
what St.Paul till then had been, it may even seem offensive. But whatever its
meaning, and however regarded, certain it is that it implies something wholly
different from what Bishop Butler's words would indicate.'
But if the
miracles were not intended to be a ground of faith in Christ, why, it will be
asked, were they given at all? They had a twofold character and purpose. Just
as a good man who is possessed of the means and the opportunity to relieve
suffering is impelled to action by his very nature, so was it with our blessed
Lord. When "the Word was made flesh and tabernacled among us," it was, if we
may so speak with reverence, a matter of course that sickness and pain and even
death should give way before Him. He "went about doing good and healing all
that were oppressed of the devil because God was with Him." The sceptics talk
as though our Lord were represented as stopping in His teaching at intervals in
order to work some miracle to silence unbelief. The idea is absolutely
grotesque in its falseness. On the contrary we read such statements as this,
that "He did not many mighty works because of their unbelief."' As a matter of
fact, while there is not recorded a single instance in the whole course of His
ministry where faith appealed to Him in vain - and this it is which makes the
inexorable reign of law to-day so strange and overwhelming-neither is there
recorded a solitary instance where the challenge of unbelief was rewarded by a
miracle. Every challenge of the kind was met by referring the caviller to the
Scriptures.
And this suggests the second great purpose for which the
miracles were given. With the Jew politics and religion were inseparable. Every
hope of spiritual blessing rested on the coming of Messiah. With that advent
was connected every promise of national independence and prosperity. The pious
few who constituted the little band of His true disciples thought first and
most of the spiritual aspect of His mission. The multitude thought only of
deliverance from the Roman yoke, and the restoration of the bygone glories of
their kingdom. In the case of all alike His chief credentials were to be sought
in the Scriptures which foretold His coming, and to these it was that His
ultimate appeal was always made. "Ye are searching the Scriptures," He said to
the Jews, "and these are they which bear witness of Me, and ye will not come to
Me." "If they hear not Moses and the prophets neither will they be persuaded
though one rose from the dead."
In this respect the evidence of the
miracles was purely incidental. It is nowhere suggested that they were given to
accredit the teaching; their evidential purpose was solely and altogether to
accredit the Teacher. It was not merely that they were miracles, but that they
were such miracles as the Jews were led by their Scriptures to expect. Their
significance depended on their special character, and their relation to a
preceding revelation accepted as Divine by those for whose benefit they were
accomplished.
And this suggests, it may be remarked in passing, another
flaw in the Christian argument from miracles, as usually stated. What is
supernatural is not of necessity Divine. "Every one who works miracles is sent
of God: this man works miracles, therefore He is sent of God." The logic of the
syllogism is perfect. But the Jew would rightly repudiate the major premise,
and of course reject the conclusion. As a matter of fact he attributed the
miracles of Christ to Satan, and our Lord met the taunt, not by denying Satanic
power, but by appealing to the nature and purpose of His acts. As they were
manifestly aimed against the arch-enemy, they could not, He urged, be assigned
to his agency.
The subordination of the testimony of miracles to that of
Scripture appears more plainly still in the teaching after the resurrection.
"Beginning (we read) at Moses and all the prophets He expounded unto them in
all the Scriptures the things concerning Himself." And again, "These are the
words which I spake unto you while I was yet with you, that all things must be
fulfilled which were written in the law of Moses and in the prophets and in the
Psalms concerning Me."' Nor was it otherwise when the apostles took up the
testimony. St. Peter's appeal, addressed to the Jews of Jerusalem, was to "all
the prophets, from Samuel and those that follow after, as many as have 2 Such
also was St. Paul's defence when arraigned before Agrippa: "I continue unto
this day (he declared) witnessing both to small and great, saying none other
things than those which the prophets and Moses did say should come." And when
we turn to the dogmatic teaching of the Epistles we have the same truth still
more explicitly enforced, that Christ "was a minister of the circumcision for
the truth of God, to confirm the promises made unto the fathers, and that the
Gentiles might glorify God for His mercy, as it is written."
Page after
page might thus be filled to prove the falseness of the dictum here under
discussion. "A new religion !" It would be nearer the truth to declare that one
great purpose of Messiah's advent was to put an end to the reign of religion
altogether. Such a statement would be entirely in keeping with the spirit of
the only passage in the New Testament where the word occurs in relation to the
Christian life.' Christ was Himself the reality of every type, the substance of
every shadow, the fulfilment of every promise of the old religion. Whether we
speak of the altar or the sacrifice, the priest or the temple in which He
ministered, Christ was the antitype of all. His purpose was not to set these
aside that He might set up others in their place - He came, not to destroy the
law and the prophets, but to fulfil them. The very details of that elaborate
ritual, the very furniture of that gorgeous shrine which was the scene and
centre of the national worship, all pointed to Him. The ark of the covenant,
the mercy-seat which covered it, the most holy place itself, and the veil which
shut it in - all were but types of Him. The several altars and the many
sacrifices bore witness to His infinite perfections and the varied aspects of
His death as bringing glory to God and full redemption to mankind. In plain
truth, the attempt to set up a religion now, in the sense in which Judaism was
a religion, is to deny Christianity and to apostatise from Christ. in the light
of this truth the force of the sceptic's argument is wholly dissipated. When
the Nazarene appeared, the question with the Jew was not whether, like another
John the Baptist, He was "a man sent of God," but whether He was the Sent One,
the Messiah to whom all their religion pointed and all their Scriptures bore
testimony. "We have found the Messiah:" "We have found Him of whom Moses in the
law, and the prophets, did write." Such were the words in which His disciples
gave expression to their faith, and by which they sought to draw others to Him.
The question, then, is not whether a revelation can be accredited by external
evidence, but whether such evidence can avail to accredit a person whose coming
has been foretold. And this no accurate thinker would for a moment dispute.
In Dean Swift's fierce invective against the Irish bishops of his day he
suggested that they were highwaymen who, having waylaid and robbed the prelates
appointed by the Crown, had entered on their Sees in virtue of the stolen
credentials. The whole point of this satire lay in the theoretical possibility
of the suggestion. Nothing is more difficult in certain circumstances than to
accredit an envoy. But, if he be expected, the merest trifle may suffice. An
agent is sent upon some mission of secrecy and danger. A messenger will follow
later with new and full instructions for his guidance. The messenger is
described to him, but his sense of the peril of his position makes him plead
that he shall have adequate credentials. In response to his appeal I pick up a
scrap of paper, tear it in two, and handing him the half I tell him that the
other moiety will be presented by the envoy. No document, however elaborate,
would give surer proof of his identity than would that torn piece of paper.
Thus we see in what sense, and how certainly and simply, "external evidence"
may avail "to accredit a revelation." And the sceptic's objection being set
aside, he is again confronted with the irrefutable force of Paley's argument
upon the main issue.
But another question claims notice here, ignored alike
by exponent and objector. They have discussed the problem from the purely human
standpoint, whereas the revelation offered for our acceptance claims to be
Divine. Man is but a creature; can God not speak to him in such wise that His
word shall carry with it its own sanction and authority? To assert that God
cannot speak thus to man is practically to deny that He is God. To assert that
He has never in fact spoken thus involves a transparent petitio
principii. It might be urged that the authenticity of prophecy and promise
has been established by their fulfilment. But certain it is that the prophets
declare that God did thus speak to them, the Scriptures assume it, and the
faith of the Christian endorses.
CHAPTER FIVE
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